To Be Loved
by Captain-Confusion
Summary: The story of the Beldam, what she is, how she came to be, and why she must have the soul's of children to survive, told from her perspective.


Hey. So, this is attempt #2 at writing a Coraline fic. Intertwined, the first one, has been discontinued because I intend to merge it with this one, given that I can make it so far. This is basically the story of the Beldam, how she came to be, etc. Unfortunately, I will have to stop writing after awhile until I can get my hands on a copy of the DVD, as I will be using actual dialogue and scenes from the movie (yes, this is movie-based). So I guess you could say this is also a prequel to Coraline, the story as shown in the film, and what happens afterward, all from the Beldam's point of view. Anyway, I hope you like it. It's very rough and probably needs a ton of work, but it's a start. Please R&R, I'd love to know what you think.

Enjoy. :)

DISCLAIMER: The book _Coraline, _and all of it's characters and what not belong to NEIL GAIMAN. The movie _Coraline _and all of it's characters and what not belong to HENRY SELIK and all the others who helped to make it.

* * *

"Mother," the voice from the other side of the room was not the sweet voice of a little girl that she loved and remembered. It as cold, hard as stone. And furious. She quickly spun around, curious as to what had angered her daughter so.

Julianne's face remained neutral and stone-like, aside from her auburn eyes, which burned with a weak flicker of rage that seemed to constantly falter and become more sad than angry.

Julianne was rather small for a sixteen year-old, barely tall enough to be considered a teenager. Her cheeks were still round and her eyes still held a childlike innocence that made her appear years younger. But without her usual, friendly smile, she looked older than ever.

She waited for her daughter to say something, but the two only stared at each other in the sheer silence until Amandine finally spoke.

"Yes?" she asked simply.

"I'm tired of this." Julianne folded her arms over her chest defiantly.

"Tired of what?"

"Tired of _you._" Amandine gasped in shock.

"Tired of _me_? What have I done?" she demanded.

"You're not stupid, Mother. I—I'm tired of being rejected!" Amandine shook her head in response, wanting to hear none of this, from her daughter of all people. "You behave as if I'm not present. And when I return home from somewhere else, you barely notice. If I were to leave an never come back, you would forget all about me, wouldn't you?"

Amandine felt as if she'd been struck in the chest, though she tried not to show any pain. Hearing her daughter utter those words—those appalling, cruel words—was sickening. Yet somewhere deep inside, she knew that there was a spark of truth to them.

"How can you say that?" she responded. Her voice and wavered at the word 'say'. "I do not ignore you. I may be busy a lot of the time, but Julianne, I do still love you and care for you."

"If you loved me, you would at least acknowledge my presence."

"I _do _acknowledge you. But when I'm working, I don't have the time to focus on anything else."

"If you still cared for me I wouldn't have to beg for food." This, Amandine knew, had to have been a lie. She wrinkled her face in disgust.

"Since when have you ever been forced to beg for food?" she exclaimed.

"Since you stopped feeding me." Amandine felt her fists tighten.

"We aren't rich, Julianne. I don't have the money to bring you whatever you want whenever you want it."

"You could at least bother to bring me some bread whenever you eat in town!"

"We have bread, we have fruit, and we have a little meat left over from two nights ago." Julianne wrinkled her nose and stamped over to the kitchen. One by one, she yanked all of the cabinets open by their handles, revealing only remnants of the food that had once been there, and a few bags of flour, sugar, and salt. In one cabinet, there was an apple. The rest were completely empty of food.

"We have nothing," Julianne affirmed sternly. Amandine tried to search for the right words to say and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She held her palms out as if to offer her daughter an explanation.

"I—I could have sworn…" was all she could manage. She immediately wondered how long Julianne had had to beg for her meals, and how she possibly could have forgotten to restock. A cold stone hardened inside of her. There was a long stretch of silence. The only audible sound was of rain pattering softly on the windows until Julianne spoke once more.

"I'm leaving," she declared. Amandine's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. She walked over to her daughter quickly and took her by the arm, but she jerked back.

"You will do no such thing," Amandine insisted. She glared down at her daughter, astonished that she would even think of doing something so ridiculous.

"I am going to live with Natalie and her family. They have agreed to let me stay with them for the time being until I can find a more permanent place to settle."

"You can't just waltz out the door!"

"I can." Amandine couldn't believe what was happening. How had it all come to this? How long had Julianne felt this way? How did it come to _this, _Julianne feeling so unloved and ignored that she decided to leave?

"I won't allow it," she hissed through gritted teeth. Her daughter was being irrational, irrational and selfish. Nothing she said could possibly have been true, none of it. Julianne hardened her stare. She shook her head. And wordlessly, before Amandine could react, she stormed off to the front door.

Amandine gasped and chased after her, but by the time she was halfway across the parlor, Julianne had already opened the door, a wave of cool, wet air flooding the room. She stared at her mother for a long moment with luck of uncertainty and hurt. Then she pulled the door closed, shutting out the sound of the rain, and she was gone.

For a moment, Amandine stood and stared at the door as if waiting for it to open once more. It was all she could do not to fall over. Her heart instantly became hollow and empty. On shaking legs, she sauntered back into the drawing room and settled into a chair near the hearth, from which sparks flew and warm light danced. She folded her hands in her lap. Her mind remained empty of thoughts. Eventually the tears came. Pulling her knees to her chest like a child, she curled up into a ball on the chair and cried herself to sleep.

When she awoke, thick, gray clouds and the sound of a million monsters screaming filled the air. A wave of fiery heat washed over the room and burned at her skin. She jerked upright to see billowing clouds rolling and tumbling about. Through them, she could see flashes of red and yellow light. _Fire_, Amandine realized.

She struggled up from the chair. Hot smoke seared her throat. She fought to draw in another breath but her lungs protested and tried desperately to force the ash out. In only a second she was on her knees on the floor, groping for a door or something, anything, but found only heat and ash. The flames, though far away, scorched her skin and her face. Her chest heaved. She could think only of freeing herself from the chaos. At the next agonizing wave of pain, she reached out with one hand. It connected with something—a door.

Frantically, Amandine struggled to pry the door open with her fingers. She could feel the flames coming toward her, ready to consume her and slowly transform her body into a pile of ashes. She scratched as quickly as she could with her nails, but her attempts were unsuccessful. Through her choking, convulsive coughs, she cried out. "Julianne!" she screeched. Fire tickled her throat. "Ju—li—anne!"

Amandine wasn't sure of what happened after that. Darkness swept over the room like a shadow. In a split second, the flames were dead. The smoke was dead. And she was dead.

There was nothingness for what seemed like the longest time. Amandine had never wondered what death would be like, but this certainly wasn't what she had been expecting. There was simply nothing but blackness.

At least until the pain came.

It started in her eyes as nothing more than a slight stinging sensation, but in a matter of only seconds, it began to grow stronger and more noticeable. She tried to reach up and grab them to stifle the pain but her arms would not move. Slowly, one sharp stab at a time, the pain traveled from her eyes to her cheeks, her cheeks to her neck, her neck to her shoulders, and to her arms, her chest, her stomach, legs, hands, feet. A sob escaped her lips. Someone was screaming, "Julianne, Julianne, Julianne!" over and over again. Her fingers twisted and curled as if trying to grab something but felt only empty air. Her heart longed to feel the presence of another being, to feel someone leaning up against her.

"Julianne!" she screamed. She screamed louder and more frantically at the realization that no one was coming for her, that no one was coming to save her, that Julianne, _Julianne, _her beautiful, little girl, was gone forever.

Alone and terrified, now clutching her bleeding heart, Amandine wailed the name of her daughter over and over again, hoping for the one thing she had truly loved in the world to return and longing for the death that wouldn't come.


End file.
